


lemniscus

by icterine



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, KAT-TUN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-02
Updated: 2011-10-02
Packaged: 2017-11-06 18:01:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/421708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icterine/pseuds/icterine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kame knows exactly who he is – a solitude-hating workaholic. When he loses himself, he discovers differently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lemniscus

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** lemniscus  
>  **Beta:** Isa [pinkeuphoria1 on Livejournal]  
>  **Pairing:** Akame, slight PiKame + Kame/OMC  
>  **Rating:** R  
>  **Disclaimer**. The characters are not mine. Plot somewhat based on David Usher's [music video for Foresfire](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=blxLpRvd3dM)

**2005**

The sound that comes from the earphone plugs attached to Jin’s portable CD player is quiet even when the volume has been turned to maximum. The song playing is a slow one for a change, lulling Kame deeper into the cosy slumber. A female singer mourns about a lost love and Jin’s breathing somewhere above his head is even and relaxing.

Kame sighs heavily, staring at the warm yellow light radiating from the lamp Jin has on his bedside drawer. It dances on his straightened hair and intensifies the tinge of orange. Somewhere in the background there’s a faint echo of raindrops coming into contact with the window, but it isn’t loud and distracting at all. Kame finds it quite soothing as he lets his eyelids fall closed and snuggles closer to the warmth of Jin’s figure beside him, curled slightly and unmoving for several minutes now. The last time he glanced at the digital alarm clock beside the lamp the numbers had informed him that it’s already past midnight – way past the time Jin’s mother would like them to stay up, and way past the time they probably should. The filming of _Gokusen 2_ had started early and Kame’s nearing almost an entire day awake. Jin can’t be much better off.

He can feel his jeans sliding downwards but it’s alright. They must be lower than what can be considered socially acceptable, exposing a small portion of his butt crack, but the thing is that he’s with Jin right now and that makes it automatically okay. It doesn’t feel weird or uncomfortable. Perhaps it’s a tiny bit thrilling and mischievous, flirty on the level they are, have always been. There are all kinds of strange relationships people share, Kame has perceived, and theirs is one of those. They’re the kind of friends that _could be_ but aren’t, could maybe always have been but never were, and he finds it oddly comforting.

Jin’s right by his side and his number plate “0±1” presses against Kame’s belly. Kame fists the fabric of the older boy’s crumpled t-shirt in his hands and breathes with his lips grazing the dry fabric. He’s feeling intimate and slightly aroused and Jin’s fingers that caress some of his hair behind his ear are perfectly fitting for the situation.

His heart is beating, Kame can hear it. It’s a soft drumming and he can sort of sense it with the tip of his nose pressed against Jin’s chest. It drums a tad bit faster than his own and when Kame’s eyelids open for a crack he can see the tensed muscles of the older boy’s neck. He lets his lips curve into a tiny smile, too tired to do much else. Too far in the haze to move.

Jin’s fingers slide down Kame’s face to his chin and then the press becomes firmer, tilting his head back. The chain around Kame’s neck jingles quietly. Kame doesn’t resist Jin’s advance but looks up at him tiredly, eyes honeyed with affection he doesn’t quite feel like blocking.

It’s very silent, even with the music, drizzle and occasional rustling of clothes or creaking of bed legs. Jin’s lips are pink and parted and his gaze keeps averting, meeting but not quite meeting Kame’s. His thumb starts drawing a circle under Kame’s chin and Kame attempts to swallow the swollen feeling in his mouth away. He feels like, if he opened his mouth to say something, the words would mush together thickly. It’s an odd thought.

Then the bed sinks as Jin decides to close the distance. Kame’s dumbfounded – it isn’t supposed to go like this, Jin isn’t supposed to do that. He’s breaking Kame’s reality and trying to tie strings together the way they aren’t supposed to be tied in Kame’s opinion, in a way he doesn’t want them to go. Kame moves his head and Jin stops, his lips hovering over Kame’s forehead, barely grazing his skin.

Kame can feel Jin’s determination shrinking away. He withdraws a couple of centimetres and doesn’t say a word. Kame tries to flee the situation and focus on the background music. It grows threatening and he decides to just sit up while clutching his own number plate that hangs from the chain around his neck, hoping not to turn things awkward between them. They aren’t awkward, they’re _comfortable_. Jin’s his relaxation. He doesn’t want to lose that.

Besides, they’ve got a drama to film. If Jin starts brooding over his actions now they’re going to go through some serious trouble on the set. Kame knows better than to let anything come between him and a successful performance at work. They’re fragile juniors – no debut, no set futures. There are only so many second chances they’ll be given, if any.

“Kame?” Jin asks him with an alarmed tone. His voice is husky and it sounds really loud after all the silence, even though Kame does know it’s not a loud voice at all. He turns his head and smirks at Jin, prepared to sweep the moment under a rug.

“We’re friends, right?” he murmurs back at Jin and lies down again on his stomach. “You and me.”

The pained look on Jin’s face is a pity. Kame’s always thought he’s understood but now he doubts it. Jin doesn’t look like he understands at all. He looks like he’s unable to say anything anymore, unable to do anything but lie with his lips parted and breathing heavy and anxious.

Kame soothes the side of Jin’s face with his palm and peers up at him confidently, offering support. They aren’t meant to be, he isn’t silly enough to believe in vague things like that. He enjoys having a friend with whom he shares a spark with around him, but that’s all he wants. They shouldn’t be idiots.

“I’m kind of tired,” Jin finally manages to croak at him. His eyes are glossy but it’s barely detectable. Somehow he’s really withdrawn though. Kame’s mind makes a brief comparison to a shell with a pearl that snaps shut on his fingers. He gulps but keeps his calm appearance up – he can’t afford to screw this up now or they might drift apart for good.

“Sleep?” he suggests and Jin nods. Kame takes it as a cue to turn the CD player off. He removes his jeans, doing his best not to feel self-conscious all of sudden, and drops them to the floor beside the bed. The CD player ends up on Jin’s nightstand and Kame turns the lamp on with a soft click.

Jin has used the time to turn his back towards him. His body is tense and breathing hitched, and he’s really making the situation uncomfortable for Kame. Kame lies down on the bed and pulls the sheets up to his chin. Jin makes his best attempt not to let their bodies touch, even though the bed has been built for only one sleeper and extra space isn’t really something they have.

He’ll act like these last minutes never happened. They’re just friends, Jin should know that. He might start out a bit hurt and unconfident, but he’ll patch things up eventually and move on. Kame hopes that won’t take the cosy atmosphere they’ve shared for too many years now with it, though. It’s what makes their relationship so special.

The problem is that Jin’s shell stays firmly shut after that. How to lure him out again is beyond Kame’s knowledge.

 

The sky is veiled with dark clouds predicting rain that seems to never fall. Kame reflects back to when he last saw the sunrays penetrating the clouds and reaching towards the ground – it might’ve been three-or-so days ago when he visited his family for dinner. He isn’t entirely sure, though – he’s been stuck inside buildings for the majority of time to the point where he’s started losing track of time, never mind weather.

The world rushes past fast. People swarm all around Kame as he pushes his sunglasses better on his crooked nose – whether the weather is bad or not doesn’t matter, he’s still one of Japan’s top idols and vulnerable for recognition. The pedestrians push past him, occasionally shoving him aside with their shoulders. The large screen at the intersection is playing some news Kame pays no heed to, too busy with his merciless schedule.

He catches his reflection in the window of an expensive designer purse shop. He stills and examines it curiously, watches other people swarming past him. He hears the city – the traffic, honks, brakes, endless footsteps and chattering, the radio playing inside the shop and a commercial playing on the billboard at the nearby intersection. It’s unbelievable how much noise a single city can produce.

He pushes his sunglasses better on his nose to protect his identity and caresses the number plate hanging from a silvery chain. It reads “8”, a number he’s very fond of, a number given to him at birth. It’s special – not many people have numbers so small, so significant and beautiful in their simplicity. Not in a metropolis like Tokyo.

Someone snaps at him after colliding with him, calling him a rude old man for blocking the way. There’s plenty of space around him but Kame gives the young woman a polite bow and an apology nonetheless and decides to continue his way to work. He squeezes the number plate tenderly in his hand and smiles as he walks amidst normal pedestrians. People don’t really look at him, they’re too busy – maybe it’s for the best, Kame thinks, unwilling to get identified by a possible fan in the middle of the morning rush hour.

When he crosses the intersection, the screen is playing the news again. He ignores it, too caught up thinking about his impossible workload – drama filming, single release and negotiations concerning the upcoming album and tour, dance practices for live performances and a list of TV shows they should attend increasing daily. The news rarely matters to him, he’s noticed – he’d like to follow it, yes, but it hardly makes a difference in his life so he mainly just skims through the daily newspaper in the evening, stopping to look more closely at the sports section and that’s about it.

The sky still refuses to drizzle or pour when his eyes meet a familiar form in front of the glass double doors. Jin’s sitting down on the rocky steps with a dark frown on his face and a lit cigarette hanging between his pursed lips. He’s sealed his hands inside the sleeves of his hoodie and denim jacket.

He turns his head as Kame approaches and something flashes in his eyes, something bitter and wary, unshielded by tinted sunglasses. He’s got dark bags under his eyes and he looks sickly pale in a very worrying way. Kame knits his eyebrows together and tries to keep his composure at least seemingly intact. Jin sniffs and exhales smoke shakily, rocking gently where he sits with his gaze cast down.

When Kame gets closer, he stills and stares at Jin stupidly. Jin’s number plate, which is usually pinned to his hip in a lazy and flirty fashion, is gone. Jin flinches as he recognizes the shocked look in Kame’s eyes and his expression swifts into alarming disgust. His hand shakes as he takes the cigarette from his mouth, drops it to the ground and stomps it with his foot. He doesn’t meet Kame’s eyes anymore before he turns around coldly and slouches away, back to the streets.

He looks naked to Kame. But it doesn’t really matter. He’s not really Jin anymore, he can’t be recognized as himself without his number. It’s not Jin.

Kame flips his number plate in his hand, shrugs and walks inside the building. KAT-TUN has one member less then, he assumes worriedly, and thinks about the increasing work load. How will Johnny react? How will things proceed _now_?

The dressing room is eerily silent that day. No one hears from Jin since. His self probably evaporates.

 

**2006**

Kame sits in the middle of a pile of clattered magazines and newspapers. Photographs of himself and his band members are greeting him with looks from flirtatious to silly to loving to threatening, the selection varying so much it makes them all look like they’re at the very least bipolar (hell, why not _octopolar_ ). Kame’s fingers caress his own face, staring back at him with a crooked smirk dancing on his lips.

“I know who I am,” he tells himself, his voice echoing awkwardly in the empty apartment. It doesn’t matter, though. He’s certain, he’s absolutely sure he hasn’t lost track of himself. Saying it aloud only adds to his certainty and he dares to smile, starting to select pictures of himself with different expressions.

He pushes the magazines away to make space for an obsessively straight row of pictures. He eyes them warily but calms down with every passing second. He exhales in relief and caresses the number plate hanging from his neck.

Everything is alright. Nothing has changed, only minor things and that’s natural. He’s still Kamenashi Kazuya, rising star or not. He doesn’t think too highly of himself, he’s not about to let it come in the way. His life is about hard work and setting a respectable character to look up to, being that person.

He lets his eyes travel across the pictures from the newspapers. Akanishi Jin this, Akanishi Jin that, hiatus with an undetermined length, speculation whether he’s ever coming back or not and paparazzi shots. He picks up this morning’s newspaper.

Jin is already gone. Maybe he was gone a long time ago already. Kame doesn’t feel like he’s really been giving his best in the past year or so. Something’s been left hanging, even with the unimaginable talent the young man possesses.

Then again, maybe it was just around him. He can still remember _Dream Boys_ , he can remember Jin’s choked up voice when _Kizuna_ flowed past his lips. He wonders if Jin was certain already then. He remembers the excitingly flirty looks Jin had been throwing during the concerts, the way he had sparkled. That had been around him too.

Nothing about Jin matters, though. He knows himself and he knows what he values, and Jin has shrunken from that list with his actions and cold shoulders. Kame has been forced to place his importance somewhere further away after all the arguments and prissy behaviour, his outlets of jealousy and whatnot.

“I hope he figures it out,” he mumbles and nods slowly, looking at a picture of all six of them, posing with wide grins on their faces. “America could do some good for him. Perhaps he’ll finally mature up a little.”

He hopes Jin figures himself out. He does feel guilty sometimes for unintentionally screwing up with Jin’s identity. But if the man can patch things up again and rise from the flames, they should be fine. He needs some time for himself, time apart from Kame so that he can try.

That’s probably why he left. All the international friends and their support too, his fascination with the language, his desire to be better than them at _something_ even though he should already know that none of them can match up to his vocals, hiprolls or adorableness. Sexiness.

But Jin’s got a fragment he’s chasing now so let him chase. It’s crucial for who he’s going to grow into.

They’re both well off. It isn’t so bad, not most of the time.

 

It’s finally raining, after weeks of waiting under the impending doom. It’s an unusually persistent and long downpour that floods the streets – one should’ve guessed, Kame ponders bitterly, his third cup of coffee still not waking him up enough. Traffic jams are tougher than ever, pedestrians’ umbrellas break and rip in collisions as they try to push past each other and the water reaches people’s ankles as they try to walk to work. Most of Kame’s meetings have been indefinitely postponed due to transportation difficulties. He just hopes they’ll get back to work soon enough; meanwhile, he works at home.

The television is still persistently working most of the time. Kame has it on just for company’s sake as he sits on the sofa with his knees drawn against his chest, dressed only in his boxer-briefs and covered with a soft blanket. His notebook is resting against the support of his thighs and he’s brainstorming for his upcoming solo performance, brains still feeling dangerously much like mush.

 _“A series of identity thefts have been reported around Tokyo,”_ a very serious-looking woman announcer informs with a heated voice and a serious stare towards the camera. Your ordinary drama reporter for serious issues, Kame nods approvingly, kind of looking up to the skill very different from what is asked from him. He’s entertainment. She’s not. _“The authorities have received a total of ten reports within the past month. Still, the perpetrator remains a mystery to the police. The head of Tokyo’s police force, Nakamoto Jouji, encourages the citizens to take utmost care of their number plates.”_

The picture changes into a bowing and very stressed and tired-looking man Kame immediately emphasizes with. He reaches for his coffee cup sitting on the low couch table and jugs down more of the bitter liquid. The policeman’s hairline is quickly receding and Kame catches his grey roots pushing the dyed black out of the way. _“Right now we’re working with a few sketches of the perpetrator, drawn with the assistance of the victims. The gender, age, outlook and social status of the victims vary, so we’re hoping everyone stays alerted to possible robberies related to this case. Please refrain from unnecessarily walking outside alone in the dark or unsafe areas. We’re hoping to retrieve the missing plates for those affected by this issue as soon as possible, and we’re asking for your cooperation.”_

Kame takes a brief glance at the sketch displayed on the screen and tunes the rest of the report out, scribbling notes for _1582_. He wants to make justice for the hard work put into the song, and portray the right feeling on stage. It’s going to be a big fight with the budget. He’s hoping to win.

His number plate hangs safely on the chain around his neck. Everything is alright. He’s just fine.

He thinks briefly back to Jin. His pen hovers over the notebook and he feels sort of hollow as he recalls the man’s hunched posture as he last encountered him. The missing number plate. He sort of hopes Jin is alright, but…

Then the man is out of his head again – there’s a lot going on at work. Jin’s disappearance had created a sort of an uprising among fans and a scandal in the nosy media. Kame can’t recall the last time he slept for more than two hours, if even that. Too much to do, too little time – there are _Dream Boys_ practices, PV discussions with the director and producer, homework dance lessons for both, solo performance brain storming and discussions, never mind what’s going on with the band, and then there are all the exhausting interviews asking about what it’s like with just the five of them, what are their opinions about Akanishi’s departure that _they aren’t even allowed to answer with anything else other than the words and views stuffed in their mouths by Johnny_ (not that he’d know what to say – he barely has time to think in general). And everything’s postponed for now too, which means there’ll be a lot to do at once when the means of transport start working again.

His living room doesn’t feel quite as cosy anymore. He licks his lips nervously and thinks about the step instructions for the _Dream Boys’_ songs. Then he glances briefly at the clock. 7 a.m. A yawn racks through his body and he covers his mouth with his arm tiredly, feeling his eyelids drooping.

He switches the TV off and staggers to the kitchen to retrieve his dance instructions. Writing notes will just make him dose off. He doesn’t have the time for that.

 

**2007**

The first man Kame ever kisses is Yamapi. Perhaps he’s his first actual love too. He’d always been sure that no matter what comes his way, he’d never get tangled up in any romantic bundles with people from work, but Yamapi has a talent of making all of those thoughts fade away.

When Kame looks back to it, perhaps the sparkles were already there during the filming of _Nobuta wo Produce_. Those times were particularly dark and exhausting for him. His bandmates treated him like plague off the camera and Jin had started turning his back to him too, so he didn’t really know how to get by. Then the communication between the two of them started spiking up. Yamapi’s one of those great people who actually care a lot about their friends and he didn’t want Kame to sink his boat alone, so he hopped on and offered a hand. It’s a hand Kame likes holding.

In a sense, Yamapi and Jin are very similar. Both are quirky and dumb but filled with energy and bright smiles, and Kame thinks he might actually really like that. It’s not a miracle, though – as far as he can remember those two had hit it off well and been the best of friends, so they’re only bound to share similar qualities. Yamapi’s a lot milder though, more of a follower if anything, and Kame thinks he probably has a much better eye for people’s emotions and thoughts. Jin never was too good with that.

What Kame loves so much about Yamapi is how he opens his eyes to something very new which he had never realised about himself. Because of this, Kame spends sleepless nights trying to figure out what defines him now that so many things have changed in his reasoning and values. He had thought that this would never be something he would want. Obviously, he had been wrong.

He’s pretty sure it’s alright, though. As long as Yamapi will snuggle up with him a few times a week to watch some silly anime and have a good time. Love’s like that, probably. Feeling so much at ease there’s no one else you could possibly want.

It’s not that they’re lonely anymore, that isn’t why they’re together. Months pass and KAT-TUN’s bonds tighten and it isn’t like Yamapi doesn’t have his own band and friends to hang out with, he’s quite a social butterfly. They might’ve started out lonely and miserable after Jin’s departure. Yamapi had been really awkward about it.

After Jin’s return their previously lax relationship turns strained. There’s almost never any time, especially because Kame has to travel for concerts and Yamapi goes out more with his friends. Kame meets up with Jin a few times off work as well. He’s doing fine, stumbling a bit with his Japanese but he’s got a fine tan and he often proceeds to teach Kame some simple and dirty words and expressions people use in the city. Nothing he’d ever come across in a schoolbook.

Jin’s doing well, and they seem to be able to give their friendship another shot so Kame’s cool with his annoying attitude at times. Having Jin accompany them on stage is something euphoric and Kame feels like he sees the bright lights for the first time in his life. He can’t wipe the smile off his face as he throws an arm around Jin’s shoulders. He’s laughing too. KAT-TUN feels whole and right again, no more lonely songs like _Bokura no Machi de_. It’s like an end for it, except that maybe this is where it all actually starts.

There are the sudden surges of jealousy with Yamapi, though, and they escalate to the point where Kame has to admit that he spends most of his nights holding his face in his hands and crying. Yamapi dislikes Kame “feeling Jin up” and sometimes he tries to quietly bring up the subject of Kame’s feelings towards his friend and what happened between them back before Jin left. Kame’s honest with his answers but nothing seems to be enough. The subject just won’t drop itself.

One afternoon when they’re sharing a cup of coffee Kame gazes at Yamapi. He reflects back to everything and feels the steam rising from his own cup tickling his nose and then he learns something new about himself too. It’s a calm realization, no drama required.

“Let’s break up,” he suggests with a soft voice. Yamapi looks up at him and for a while they’re silent. Kame licks his lip nervously and lets out a deep sigh. Yamapi nods curtly in answer, hesitant and thoughtful but not angry or desperate.

“I guess it’s for the best, isn’t it?” Yamapi elaborates his gesture and shrugs, thumb caressing his mug. Kame nods and bows his head a bit in apology.

“This doesn’t feel right anymore. I think we can find better happiness elsewhere. I don’t feel like I’m in love with you anymore,” he explains himself, wanting to be clear about it. Yamapi nods. He’s taking it really well. Kame wonders if he’s wanted to break up with him too. He could have for quite a while.

“I did love you,” Yamapi nods and looks contemplative with his pursed lips. “We had a lot of fun, didn’t we?”

“We did,” Kame answers warmly and manages to come up with a smile. “I’m thankful for that. You taught me a lot of things.”

Yamapi grins at him a little and empties his coffee mug. “I’ll pack my stuff then, huh?” Clothes, he means and a few accessories and everyday necessities in Kame’s bathroom cupboard. Kame nods. It’s time to start another chapter in his life.

It takes them twenty minutes to stuff Yamapi’s belongings in plastic bags and say their goodbyes with warm and awkward hugs and muffled words. Kame watches him head over to his car and hop in from his balcony, reminiscing over the good times already. He doesn’t feel regret, though.

This part of him was beautiful, and Yamapi was too. He smiles as he directs his face towards the sun and closes his eyes, leaning against the balcony rail. He feels older and more mature now, and ready to experience something alike, no matter how scary the idea is.

His thumb trails the number hanging from his neck.

 

Two days later he’s back to work, because JE isn’t famous for giving days off rather than because of a notable improvement in the traffic. He’s been lucky, though – a lot of people had not gotten even a few days off like he had. Not that they would’ve been “days off” per se, but still free from running around a lot anyway.

It feels good to hug Koki as a greeting and listen to his endless chiming about the puppies his current girlfriend’s dog apparently finally delivered to the world last afternoon. His story is enriched with pictures he’s managed to snatch with his mobile and Kame’s heart melts and he coos at the pictures with rosy cheeks as the hairdresser works on him with a straightening iron and a whole basket of hair products.

The day goes by in a rush and Kame forgets to eat. His stomach is churning by the time he’s walking home. A thick scent of ramen coming from a nearby restaurant makes the emptiness of his stomach unbearable and he almost wants to decide that his diet can suck it up and just go and get his own bowl but he knows better. He’ll have to jump around half-naked for _Dream Boys_ and nothing but top-shape will do. He’ll just get home and prepare something healthier. Cooking relaxes him anyway.

He buys a ticket for the subway and makes his way to the platform drowsily. The sunglasses pressing on his nose are slowly giving him a headache. His jacket clings to his skin thanks to the drizzling weather outside. He leans against a wall and glances at the clock. Two minutes. That’s not so bad.

There’s a painful pull at his neck and something snaps. Kame gasps and cries. His hand shoots up quickly to rub the reddening skin and he looks at the man sprinting fast away from him, making his way to the escalator and pushing people away. Kame’s heart pounds in his ears.

Everyone is looking at him. For a moment he’s terrified, terrified of getting recognized and stalked home. It’s enough that people do it in secret and attempt to steal his mail and whatever, but he always feels vulnerable when there are lots of people around him. One comes, everyone comes. It can get scary, and he’s kind of too cranky and tired to keep flashing his idol smile for the next few hours.

The fellow commuters don’t do anything else but stare at him, though. When it finally sinks in that his neck is _chainless_ and he doesn’t see his assailant anymore, he goes on panic mode and sprints his way after the man. His number 8 is way more important than a subway.

“Robbery!” he cries in sheer panic as he pushes past people who cry in annoyance and curse after him. “Stop the robber!” Surely someone has to pay attention to him, he looked suspicious at least, running away like a guilty madman… And surely there has to be some fans of his willing to lend a hand.

When he makes his way up the stairs, he sees the man rushing outside in the rain. His heart is pounding in his chest painfully – it has to be the identity thief from the news. The identity thief who’s holding _his_ self in his hand, his number, _himself_. He screams at the people around him to stop the man but no one reacts – some look confused but don’t get the time to react. He feels helpless, weak and naked.

Tokyo is a large city and Kame loses sight of the man within seconds once he makes it outside. He pants as he finally stops and takes support on his bent knees. People slowly withdraw from him, eyeing him strangely. Kame looks up at them, feeling a lump in his throat. His sunglasses drop to the ground with a clash.

He feels cornered. He clasps his jacket where his number plate used to rest. The city is cold and water runs down his neck to his back, tickling him. People’s eyes avert and they start walking past him again. Some people ignore him to the point of walking into him and Kame falls to the ground, still panting. He shivers in the rain and tries to get up on his feet – the last thing he needs is paparazzi pictures right now. He has to get away.

He tries to hide the loss of his number plate, but no one seems to buy it. People look at him briefly with a superior glance and dismiss him right away. It’s painful. _Nothing’s changed_ , he tries to tell himself as he shivers, still in panic. Everything is going to be alright. Everything is alright. Nothing’s changed. Nothing at all.

He’s still himself and no one can take that away from him. Identity isn’t something that someone can snatch just like that, it isn’t something that can be stolen. No one can copy him or be him. There isn’t a person in the world who can override everything he’s become in the 23 years of his life.

He feels hollow though, as if his self would be slipping away. He doesn’t dare to call the police before discussing the issue with Johnny – he doesn’t want the word to start circulating, he doesn’t want to cause trouble. He just wants everything to get fixed all _hush-hush_ and get back to work.

He leans against his apartment’s door, breathing heavily. He doesn’t feel like he’s getting enough oxygen.

He slides down to the floor and trembles as Ran-chan happily pads her way to him, whining hungrily and worriedly. The dog rests her head on Kame’s neck and her cold nose sniffs Kame’s ear. The world is spinning.

For a moment he kind of does forget who he is.

 

**2007**

“What do you want from your future, Kamenashi?” Johnny asks him with a serious voice one day. Kame’s hands are sweating nervously as he sits across the old man in his showy office. It’s still early and the sky is painted with warm colours of orange, yellow and red behind the man’s back. Kame removes his stare from the window and looks at his employer, heart thumping loudly.

No matter how many years he works here or how successful he becomes, he still feels like that awkward teenaged boy sitting across this man, waiting for reproaches and important decisions about his future. Perhaps it’s part of the picture.

“What do you mean, sir?” Kame tries to avoid the question, unsure of how to answer. He thinks about the question often himself but nothing pops into his head right now. He just wants this, that he does know. This is good.

“KAT-TUN’s been very successful, hasn’t it?” Johnny tries to help him ease up a little with appraisals and a supporting smile. He’s not in trouble, then. That’s good, he can rule that out. “You too. You haven’t acted in a drama this year, though, other than that small part in Tanaka’s.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Kame bows his head quickly, not sure if he’s getting scolded after all. He did attend auditions, he just didn’t pass them. It’s his fault. This year just wasn’t good. He’s had a lot on his mind.

“Last year was really tiring for you, wasn’t it?” Johnny continues. Kame nods, affirming. “How do you feel about acting? Do you want to focus on it in the future or is there something else you would like to pursue?”

“I love acting,” Kame admits honestly and feels a nervous shiver running up his spine. “I think it might be the thing I like doing the most. If it’s possible, I would like to keep having dramas, even with all the work with KAT-TUN.”

Johnny nods and writes something down on the paper before him. Kame gulps, starting to think comically that this whole situation reminds him of a psychiatrist’s appointment. He’s had a few of those for stress, nothing regular or necessary but still.

“But you would like to pursue KAT-TUN actively as well?” Johnny checks with him. Kame nods determinately, sure of his choices. Maybe this isn’t so difficult after all. Not if he knows himself inside out. The thought makes him quite happy. “Alright, we’ll see how the schedules go. What about _Dream Boys_?”

“It’s challenging,” Kame admits. “But I enjoy it greatly. The staff is always amazing and it’s very different from what I usually get to do so if it’s possible I would like to keep continuing with it for now.” He loves it. The complexity in singing, dancing and acting a part all at the same time, being flown around with wires and learning to look graceful and in control of his body. Learning to _be_ in control of his body. It requires months of work but it’s definitely worth it.

“And your image?” Johnny prompts him while scribbling down notes. “Fanservice has proven to be very successful when it comes to you, I don’t think you should drop it. However, now that Akanishi has returned we do have to discuss this.”

Childhood memories flash in front of Kame’s eyes. Cute approaches and encounters between Jin and him on stage, all the kissy photographs and interviews where they made sure to talk warmly about each other. He swallows a lump that threatens to rise in his throat.

“I think Tanaka is fine,” Kame says with a steady voice. “Our teamwork has been very smooth and it feels comfortable. I think our images are a fascinating match too.”

“Alright,” Johnny nods and smiles up at him warmly. “So, how are things between you and Akanishi?”

“Huh?” Kame mumbles dumbly, taken aback by the question. His hands are getting sweaty again and he’s kind of scared of what Johnny means with his words. Maybe he knows that they’ve been getting this distance between them again and maybe he thinks it’ll affect their work performance. It doesn’t. They’re fine with each other, _Cartoon KAT-TUN_ should prove it already. Nothing shows. They might sometimes struggle to work smoothly, but other than that they’re fine. Sometimes people just grow apart.

“He’s back now, it must be a relief, isn’t it? Missing a second lead vocalist put a lot of strain on you.” Yes, but it put more pressure on Ueda, Kame thinks. Everyone had to fight to make their single as good as possible back when they were working on it and Ueda got a lot more responsibility than before. He’s the one who deserves the praise. “Is he welcomed back?”

“Yes,” Kame nods. “We’re a lot better working whole again. I hope we won’t disappoint you.” He means it. It’s a little fear that keeps lurking around, one he’s very conscious of. But things really have been going well and he’s feeling positive about his career, about KAT-TUN.

“I have faith in you,” Johnny nods with a smile that makes him look a couple of decades younger. The words stir a proud feeling that swells in Kame’s chest. When he joined Johnny’s Entertainment it was because his mother had pushed him into it. He was just a boy with an immense love for baseball. He didn’t want to give up on it for way too many years, but now he’s happy about his decision. This is what he loves.

KAT-TUN might very well be the best thing that ever happened to him.

 

“What do you mean I don’t have access inside?” Kame mumbles disbelievingly to the doorman in front of the studio. “I’m Kamenashi Kazuya from KAT-TUN. I work here!”

“No access. I’m sorry sir, but I’m required to ask you to leave. Don’t make me call the cops on you,” the doorman bows but his expression is persistent – he isn’t going to budge. Kame feels dumbfounded. This can’t be happening.

“I come here almost every day of the week,” he whispers out weakly. “Look, I’ve got to get in. I’ve got work, we’ll both get in trouble. Just let me in.”

“No can do,” the man apologizes and motions for him to step aside. “I’d suggest you leave now. No ID, no entrance.”

“I got mugged!” Kame cries and falls on his knees to bow down deep. He doesn’t remember the last time he did this – probably in some drama, he doesn’t have a habit of getting himself in trouble where he needs to bow down this deep to apologize. “Please. _Please._ Just let me in, I’ll sort it out with Johnny–”

The guard is starting to look seriously pissed by now. “You’ve got five seconds to back away, sir. After that I’m required to report this to the police. This isn’t public area.”

Kame bites his knuckles and steps away, nearing tears. This can’t be happening. He backs away to the street, eyeing the guard with a hurt and angry expression and fishes his mobile from his pocket with shaky fingers.

Before he can press the dial, someone bumps into him and makes him drop the device in a lingering pool of water. Kame nearly loses his balance but manages to keep himself on his feet. He turns around and sees –

“Koki,” he exhales in relief and jumps to hug his friend. It feels like all the weight is coming crashing down on him. “Oh god, I missed you.”

Koki backs away suspiciously – Kame has to admit he doesn’t always show his affection as openly, especially on the streets. Today just happens to be a really bad day.

“Tell the guard to let me in,” he gulps. “My number plate got stolen and I–”

Koki’s eyes drop to his chest, taking in the missing accessory. He frowns and looks up at Kame and the look in his eyes changes to pity. Kame’s heart starts drumming in his chest. But it’s Koki. Koki’s been his shoulder to lean on pretty much ever since Jin started distancing himself from him. There’d been a moment of confusion upon Jin’s return when Jin had warmed up slightly to Kame again, but then the awkwardness between them had grown back to the current norm and they’d drifted apart again. Koki stood beside him to support him all the while.

“Oh come on,” he mumbles disbelievingly. “Don’t give me that look. It’s just a number! It’s not like everybody here wouldn’t know it already!”

Koki shrugs without properly looking him in the eyes anymore and starts going up the steps to the doors. Kame doesn’t believe his eyes. The whole situation is absurdly surreal. His number is gone and now Koki’s turning his back to him as well as if he weren’t the exact same Kamenashi Kazuya he’s always been.

“Koki?!” he yells after his friend sharply. “You can’t just leave me–!”

But he does. Kame curses, picks up his phone from the pavement and tries to wipe it dry with his shirt, panic starting to take over him again. This can’t be happening. This is ridiculous. Seriously _ridiculous_. He doesn’t get people anymore, they can’t be such hypocrites. He wouldn’t ever have abandoned a friend, _ever_ , the fuck…

Jin flashes in his mind. A lone figure sitting in front of the building with a cigarette clinging to his lips, pale, sickly and exhausted. A bandmate everyone abandoned in a matter of seconds, someone no one reached a hand for.

His phone doesn’t work. He shakes his head and curses before throwing the mobile on the ground in a fit of anger. The battery comes out and gets wet. He doesn’t dare to touch it anymore.

 

**2007**

Nakamaru has his hands tucked into the pockets of his woollen winter jacket. It’s been silent between them for a long while now but it isn’t entirely comfortable. Their breaths mist in the air and Kame’s hiding his face under the warmth of his scarf. Nakamaru’s nose, that everyone finds rather large, is turning red.

They make their way into an expensive restaurant for dinner. Kame’s been here before on several occasions with a scattered variety of friends but this is the first time he’s bringing Nakamaru here, because he has a feeling that the man might appreciate the food and wine selection and they might find a common interest here.

They order their appetizers and meals and let the waiter recommend them wines to go along with their selections before it’s just the two of them again. Nakamaru’s wearing one of his argyle sweaters again with his number plate neatly attached to his chest with a pin and Kame’s clad in a crisp white shirt because the restaurant is rather high-class and he doesn’t want to stand out in a bad way.

They make their way through the appetizers enjoying relaxing chitchat about work and common friends. They talk about Ueda’s boxing training and sports, mainly football and baseball although the conversations are rather one-sided, and a TV drama they’ve both been following.

They haven’t really had much free time to go out together in a long time and Kame appreciates the occasion. Sometimes the whole band goes out for dinner or drinks but other than that they hardly see each other off work. Most of them agree that it’s a good thing, though – they put up with each other enough every day already, no need to increase the amount and end up fighting most of the time. They can fight over such stupid things. Kame wonders if they somewhere along the way forgot to grow up, no matter how mature they feel every now and then.

“How are things between you and Jin?” Nakamaru asks all of a sudden when they’re halfway through their main course. Kame chews deliberately on his creamy spaghetti and lets the taste of wine in the sauce spread over his tongue.

“I don’t know,” he finally admits. People don’t really ask him this question often, sometimes people give him odd looks that concern him but he isn’t really sure why. Maybe they’re worried for the band. Sometimes he’s worried about their relationship too. They’d better not be a ticking time bomb.

“Haven’t you talked with him?” Nakamaru urges him on, guiding salad to his mouth with his fork. Kame shakes his head. No, not really, they haven’t. “Don’t you think you should talk it out?”

“I think we’re fine, there isn’t really anything to sort out,” Kame answers slowly, thinking about his answers. “We just grew apart. It happens to people. It’s not like we hate each other’s guts. Or are you hinting at something?” he chuckles with a playful smirk, fork resting teasingly on his lower lip. “You’re a close friend of his, aren’t you?”

Nakamaru sweats a little at that. “Well, that’s relative, I don’t really know with him. We do spend time off work and talk sometimes about personal things but I don’t really know how he’s with his other friends.”

“But you have talked something,” Kame notes and takes a small sip of his wine. Almost a bottle down now. It’s a good thing neither of them is driving home. “So?”

“I just think you’ve never properly talked about things,” Nakamaru says genuinely. He sounds slightly concerned and he looks Kame straight in the eyes. He’s serious then, huh. “A little talk wouldn’t hurt, would it? Going through some stuff, what you think about each other, things like that.”

“It’s not like we don’t talk,” Kame grimaces. “He could talk to me if he wanted to. But it just started becoming really awkward again, you know?” he tries to justify their separation. “We’re not alike anymore. I’ve matured, I’m not that silly child who was his best friend anymore.”

“If you just talked,” Nakamaru still tries hesitantly, a frown on his face.

“I’ve actually decided to give up on him,” Kame admits with a nod and eats neatly another forkful of his pasta. “It’s about time to let go. The memories are good but it’s about time we accepted the present situation.” He smiles a little as he looks back at Nakamaru. “We get along fine, don’t worry. It’s just that that’s it. And it’s alright.”

“If you say so,” Nakamaru sighs in defeat and reaches for his wine glass. Kame looks at the lamp hanging from the ceiling and wipes his mouth with his napkin, feeling squeamish on his seat. It’s another thing to think about it than to say it aloud. Now, though…

He feels like he can finally bid farewell to the most beautiful friendship of his youth.

 

Jin opens his door ajar with an apathetic look in his eyes. Kame shivers, soaked in the pouring rain. His hair clings to his forehead and his teeth clatter as he stares at Jin helplessly, eyes bloodshot and insides disgustingly hollow.

Jin’s eyes slowly trace Kame’s neck and chest, taking in the missing presence of Kame’s self. He opens the door more and lets Kame in without a further word. He looks exhausted and sad as he stands beside Kame, waiting for him to remove his shoes before leading him to the bathroom where he gives him a soft towel picturing a woman on her knees, large breasts exposed. Kame wraps it around himself thankfully and hiccups.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” he mumbles speedily. Jin nods and scratches his nose – that’s still normal. Just like always. It nearly pushes Kame into tears again. Scary.

“I’ve never felt so empty,” he whispers with a broken voice. Jin doesn’t hesitate when he wraps his arms around him and pulls him close, burying his face in the crook of Kame’s neck. He understands. Some people out there might understand too, but no one else they would know.

Jin must’ve been painfully lonely. The guilt clings to Kame like a tumour. He tries not to breathe in Jin’s overgrown hair and choke on it as he returns the embrace. He feels like a little child afraid of monsters in the dark.

“We’re never nothing,” Jin whispers to him, his fingers clenching the towel on Kame’s back. “I’ll never become nothing.” Almost reassuring. Almost.

It’s like a chime Jin has kept repeating to himself over and over again, something that has started to lose its meaning with every repeat. Jin feels nearly like nothing at all in Kame’s arms. He’s not the person he used to be, he isn’t the Jin with the billion watt smile, determination to be himself and silly teenage behaviour.

Jin is nothing, as simple as that. And, quickly, Kame is turning into nothing at all as well. He can feel it spreading like a disease, fuelled by everyone around him, KAT-TUN’s remaining members, even people he doesn’t know… everyone.

Jin’s lips press against his. Kame gasps and freezes in the man’s hold. His hands drop to his sides and he yanks his head away. Jin pants as he looks him in the eyes. Kame gulps and takes a few steps back, alarmed.

“What the fuck, Jin?” he whispers numbly and shakes his head disbelievingly.

Jin’s gaze averts. He looks away and scratches his nose again, wet splotches on his hoodie.

Kame’s thought they were over this already many, many years ago.

“Leave,” he commands and the blood in Kame’s veins freezes. _What._

“Jin, the fuck,” he repeats more shortly and stares at the man, starting to grow annoyed. Jin’s eyes flash – embarrassment, fury, disappointment, whatever. It’s more than he’s shown in front of Kame for several years now. They aren’t the best friends they used to be.

He lets out a bloodcurdling scream as Jin grabs a painful hold of him and starts to wrestle him towards the foyer. Jin’s arms are strong and Kame’s struggle seems pointless and he finally changes his tactics and instead tries to cling onto the man in panic.

“You can’t do this,” he splutters in panic, voice hoarse and breathy. “You can’t fucking do this, Jin! YOU CAN’T FUCKING DO THIS!”

“Don’t come here anymore,” Jin spits at him poisonously as he throws him out the door and kicks his shoes after him. “Stay the fuck away, Kamenashi.”

“JIN!” Kame screams and makes a lunge for it, but Jin’s door is already closed. He bangs against the door with his fist and tries the handle. “Jin, I’ve got nowhere else to go! You can’t just throw me out! Open the door!”

No answer. Kame waits hopefully but no. Seconds start turning into minutes. He knocks again.

“Jin, let’s talk about this,” he tries another approach with a shaky voice. Even he himself doesn’t believe in any chances of lulling Jin out of his shell anymore. “Jin, please. We’re friends. O-open the door. Please.”

Not that Jin really has any reason to open the door. Why is he even here? Why did Jin even let him in? _Because they’re companions._ Rejects, social outcast, even more so than anyone else. They’re each other’s last hope to hold on to anything. Last option.

“Please,” he tries again, pushing the handle down. The door remains locked. He wonders how messed up Jin is by now and the thought makes him shiver.

He admits defeat and picks up his shoes in his hands as he starts walking away in the rain. The towel had dropped sometime during the struggle – no use of that either then. He’s wet and cold and alone as he makes his way to the streets.

What now? He doesn’t know.

He wishes he did. Not knowing makes him wonder if he knows himself at all anymore.

 

**2008**

Kame hasn’t done many serious relationships after Yamapi. An occasional woman here and there for a few weeks or if nicely stretched even luckily a few months, but that’s about it. He does get infatuated with people every now and then and sometimes the feeling is mutual, but Kame fails to actually fall in love with anyone. It’s a natural process he would like to occur sometime. He’s starting to suspect that maybe women aren’t his thing at all after all, maybe his genuine emotions are across the fence. It could very well be. He’s felt pansexual since he was a teenager.

That’s probably why he feels so nervous when a man makes a move on him, a man who’s got his own popularity to protect so he can’t be just trying to dig for nasty rumours about him to sell to the magazines. He’s a baseball player, someone whose name Kame recalls coming across in a magazine or two. He isn’t particularly famous there but with luck and skill he might get there. It’s needless to say he’s got Kame’s admiration.

They actually meet through a common friend at a party with tall glasses of champagne and people walking around in suits and conversing. They hit it on surprisingly well with some flirting here and there and sooner than Kame really anticipates it, he ends up exchanging numbers with the man. After that it’s just endless uphill.

He’s still finishing up the filming for _1 Pound Gospel_ so their schedules don’t match in the beginning which is quite aggravating for Kame. He’s unsure with his feelings too – is this really something he wants to pursue and why so?

He takes his aggressiveness out on boxing at the gym with Ueda and some co-workers from the drama set. He tries to keep his head straight, tries to think about himself and who he is and he _knows himself_ , he’s very work-orientated and it’s his number one priority but he thinks he might really _like_ this guy and the risk might be worth it if he keeps himself in check during the relationship. No stupid stunts or such. The man probably agrees with him.

After some occasional meetings for coffee, lunch and dinner, Kame finds himself pressing the man against his foyer wall and breathing raggedly against his Adam’s apple. His blood is boiling and the man’s hands are holding his hips possessively. That’s when he loses all coherency and knows that even though he does find women attractive, he wants to spend the rest of his life with a man. The decision isn’t so hard after all.

Kame rolls over the man on his bed, still sweaty from the act, and kisses his lips calmly. The man answers by trailing his palms up and down Kame’s muscled arms and smiling drowsily. There’s an emotion stirring in Kame’s chest.

They start going out not too long after that. Kame thinks he might’ve gotten ridiculously lucky, having the two passions of his life tied so close to him. Could be fate, not that he believes in it. But it could be.

 

No one really looks at him more than once anymore. They scan him for a number plate and once they note its absence they turn their gazes away. He feels like trash. It’s starting to get a bit funny – Kamenashi Kazuya, _trash_. Not Japan’s top idol, not a lady magnet, no one important. _Trash._

His self is kind of dirtied and pathetic now. Flashing lights are gone. He’s starting to grow stubble. Five o’clock shadow.

A barely clad woman grants him a sultry look perfected with a crooked smile. Then her gaze turns away. The streetlights flicker above Kame and he glances at them apathetically. He extends his hand towards the light and just watches for a while.

Being nothing and no one feels utterly idiotic.

He walks into a public restroom in a supermarket that happily informs it’s open 24/7 with a huge and flickering neon sign. The cashier chews gum and smells like cheap perfume and sweat as she shuffles cards. The shop isn’t particularly busy. Kame sees a drunken man and a woman who keeps muttering to herself dangerously slipping through the racks of canned food. It’s a bit of a darker area.

He pushes the door open to the restroom and stops before the cracked window in front of the sink. His skin looks clammy and disgusting. There’s a fly that circulates around his head, buzzing annoyingly, and Kame almost admits defeat and slumps against the door.

He doesn’t feel much anymore. Mostly just bitterness. He kind of feels like his eyes have finally been opened, like he can really actually see now.

The world isn’t such a beautiful sugar-coated place after all.

He grows desperate. He sure as hell can’t live like this, can he? There were times in the past when he wished to trade lives with someone. Now he’s got nothing to offer in a trade anymore and he can’t help thinking what it would be like to simply _become_ someone else. Gruesome images of himself flash before his eyes and he lives the fantasy. He pushes someone down like a ragdoll and tears their plate away, all the way grinning like a madman before death row. He’d hang the plate from a chain again and walk away, renewed and significant again.

The images turn more horrid though and Kame feels cold sweat forming on his forehead. He slumps to the floor under the filthy sink and holds his chest, breathing heavily. His fingers twitch as his imaginary-self sinks his teeth in the number plate and feels it crumble down his chin. He licks his lips and munches at the number, ready to digest it and move on, filled with greed that resembles a dangerous addiction. Then there are more numbers, always more plates, there are people’s horrified and desperate cries that echo from the walls, faces that are right behind him and –

An old man stumbles into the restroom with a giggling woman, his arm draped around her shoulder. They laugh and glance at Kame briefly before pushing into a cubicle and closing the door behind them. Kame snaps out of his trance and stares after them with widened eyes.

Kame starts feeling awkward and takes one last look at his ashen complexion before he walks away. The loud noise of zipper coming undone and shuffling clothes make him feel a bit sick in a way that almost makes him feel content. To think that right now at this moment he’s less worthy than those two right there…

He’s back in the shop now, and a security camera greets him by turning to look at him. Seriously… He rolls his eyes and stomps away, not caring all too much.

He’s having an identity crisis, that’s what he’s having. He closes his eyes and gulps nervously as he walks out of the store, still feeling the cashier’s pointed look at his back. _It’s just an identity crisis._ He’s doubting himself. He’ll drive himself crazy for sure if he lets it win. Now that’d be a cherry on the top.

He opens his wary eyes and shivers – it’s starting to get chilly. His clothes are still damp, clinging to his skin and the last time he showered was in the morning. It must be way past midnight now. At least no one seems interested to assault him on the darker streets.

A pair of women with their arms linked walk past him. One of them is smoking, the other one’s just struggling to walk straight with her dangerously high stilettos. Fishnets. _Whores_ , Kame notes absently, staring at their thickly painted faces. He could be wrong. Then again, he doesn’t think he is.

One of the women has a number – _9281_ – tattooed to her arm. Kame peers at it curiously and feels his heart pounding. The other woman shares a similar tattoo, a sequence of numbers printed at her shoulder blade.

He gets an idea and rushes back inside the store.

This is a fight he’s going to win, no matter what it takes. He’s encountered a lot, he’s risen above a lot. This isn’t the thing that is going to take him down. Nothing will take him down.

Fifteen minutes later he’s back in the restroom listening to the loud ruckus emerging from the locked cubicle. Moans, wet and slippery sounds, screams, dirty talking. He looks his reflection in the eyes darkly and lifts his shirt. The light starts to flicker.

He pulls his purchase out of the tiny plain white plastic bag with a rustle and goes ahead.

 

**2008**

“You’re never around,” his boyfriend accuses him with his arms crossed and a pissed off look on his face. Kame kind of wants to defend himself – it’s not his fault, not entirely. His work has always been hectic and the man should’ve expected that, he’s sure he’s always made it crystal clear.

“I do my best,” he finally decides to say, slouching past the man with aspirin pills in his hand. He gets a bottle of cold water from the fridge and starts pouring himself a glassful. There’s a sound of shuffling clothes behind him, someone turning around.

Bomb on its way. It isn’t the first time. Kame gulps down the aspirin with a roll of his eyes and wipes his mouth before turning around as well, leaning against the kitchen counter defensively. He doesn’t really want to fight.

“Just come back from the party, won’t you?” he suggests wearily and rubs his swollen eyes. God, he’s so tired. There’s only so much choreography one can learn in a day for the upcoming concert. And they aren’t even clothed in their costumes in a sauna of concert attendees. This is nothing yet. “You can sleep here. You have the key, just crawl in. Then we can have breakfast together.”

“You know this party is important to me, Kazu,” the man insists sharply. “I already told everyone you’d be accompanying me.”

“I really can’t,” Kame groans and rubs his temples. He makes sure to sound apologetic, though. He is, he _did_ promise to go. But there’s only so much he can take and it’s just been really tough lately and he thinks he’s running out of batteries. It’s not a good sign. He shouldn’t, not now. He’s got a few months to keep his best appearance up without slips or thousands of people will catch his mistakes.

“Am I the last one on your list of priorities?” the man asks him. His voice is stable and Kame closes his eyes, sinking into it. He’s got a bad feeling about this. His instincts are often right. “So I am, am I not?”

“Of course not,” he hisses and glares at the man. “You know I love you. I really do. But I’ve got to invest my energy into work, you do understand that, don’t you? I’m an idol, I know it sounds a lot like sitting around and looking pretty but it’s nothing like that.”

“Well, obviously,” the man scoffs and looks away. He’s biting his lip, trying to hold his anger in, Kame knows that look. “The question is how important am I actually to you? Will you ever sacrifice anything for me?”

His demands are unfair. Kame snorts and feels his hands clenching into tight fists. God, he hates fighting. He’s tired enough already as it is. “I love you and I’m serious about you. Isn’t that enough?” he snarls, tilting his head threateningly. Well, now that they’re at it, he’s not going to go down without standing up for himself. “I’m really sorry about this party, but I can barely stand on my feet. I just want to crawl to bed and get some sleep. I can’t really think about anything else. Can you just come here and hug me good night?”

“I do understand that,” his boyfriend croaks and his eyes are looking glossy. He doesn’t cry though, Kame’s never seen him cry. Tough guy. His eyes only glisten every now and then when they fight or when his team wins a match. It’s a part of his charm. “It’s just that I’m not sure if this is what I’m looking for, Kazu.”

His words throw Kame off – he had _not_ been expecting them. He gulps and finally detaches himself from the counter to walk over. He lays his palm on his boyfriend’s cheek but he turns his face away.

It’s funny how fast everything can crumble away.

“You sure?” he asks silently, heart pounding painfully. It feels surreal. It’s only been several months, but he doesn’t feel like he’s done quite yet. He’s been very devoted to this, even if it doesn’t come across all the time. “Hey. Be clear with what you’re saying now.”

“I want someone who stands by my side,” the man murmurs to him and buries his fingers in Kame’s hair. “Participates in my life too. Goes out with my friends and is ready to make time for me, no matter how difficult it is. I just feel like you aren’t giving me that.”

Kame licks his lips nervously and stares into the man’s eyes, searching. His hands are on the man’s sides, holding on to him gently. But… He’s giving his best now. And who knows what things will develop into, how his schedules will look in five years. They could get even worse. He’s a Johnny’s.

“…This is my best,” he admits softly and lets his hands fall. It’s kind of painful. Last time he fell in love, he fell out of love too before the separation. This time is his first nasty break-up with someone he’d really want to be with. It’s a bitter feeling.

The man wraps his arms around him and holds him. Kame feels his eyelids sliding shut and he hugs back, clinging onto the hope. Maybe it’s just a false alarm. Maybe love _is_ enough. He breathes in the scent emitting from the man’s neck, his cologne.

“I think we should break up,” a quiet voice says. The words are spoken soothingly. Kame feels his own eyes glistening and he ends up shedding quite a few tears. There’s nothing girly about it. It’s just who he is.

He caresses the man’s number plate, attached to the fabric loops made for the belt, kind of like Jin’s. He smiles at the memory and nuzzles up close before withdrawing. He crosses his arms comfortingly and nods.

“You’re going to be late,” he notes softly with a choked up voice and nods towards the door. “You can get your stuff when it works for you. Leave your key when you’re done, won’t you?”

“Will you be alright?” the man asks him, voice strained and shaky. He looks guilty. There’s nothing he can do about it, though. Not genuinely.

“I’ll be fine,” he answers with an affirming nod. “I’ll go to sleep. I’ll feel better tomorrow. Don’t worry about it.”

The man nods awkwardly and waves his hand. Then he turns his back to Kame and walks away. Kame tries to swallow down the hiccups and painful feeling in his chest. He’s tempted to get a bottle of wine from the cupboard but he’s got work tomorrow. He already feels shitty enough.

So he just crawls to bed and lets the bugging sensation of being alone get to him. It’s lonely and silent. Solitude isn’t his thing at all.

 

“Kame.”

Kame turns around, eyeing the figure behind him on the subway platform through narrowed eyes. Jin stuffs his fists in the pockets of his hoodie and stomps forward awkwardly until he stands next to Kame. He’s looking around, though. At people. Everything.

The atmosphere he emits is almost relaxing. Kame sees the subway approaching from the distance. Lights. He lets out a lazy exhale.

They both step on the same carriage and Jin guides him with a light touch on his wrist. They sit down and an old man frowns in displeasure before he stands up and stomps away. Kame turns to look at Jin. His eyes have returned to him.

“I’m sorry,” the man mutters and Kame nods understandingly. “I lost my cool.”

Then there’s silence. Kame doesn’t know whether he should forgive the man or not. He’s looking life through a different lens now – people look different from what they used to be now. No one cares, not really. People are funnily egoistical. He doesn’t know why he should.

“I feel like I’m constantly choking,” Jin croaks quietly and rubs his throat. A warm sensation starts spreading from Kame’s stomach as he looks back to the older man who’s sitting crouched on his seat, eyes deep and hollow. He knows the feeling.

“It just means you still exist,” Kame notes lazily and crosses his legs.

“I can’t change how I feel about you,” Jin sputters hopelessly. His gaze is penetrating. “It’s always been like that, you know. I just thought that. That maybe now. Maybe now you would. You know.”

“Accept it?” Kame chuckles. So, Jin has figured they’re low enough now, beaten down enough to dig up all the things they never got around to. It’s like a death wish, chiming dangerously.

Not that there’s anyone to scold them about the temptation now. Kame examines Jin’s lips, tightly pressed together. The sparkle between them is as subtle as ever.

“Depends,” he continues and looks out of the window to see another platform passing by in a flash of light. “How do you feel about me now?”

“I love you,” Jin answers. No unnecessary ruffles and sugar-coating. Plain simple and heart-filled truth. “…I think it’s the only thing I’m able to feel anymore.”

“And after that’s gone?”

“Nothing.”

It’s kind of a shame. Kame examines Jin sadly. He doesn’t have much to offer, only one simple and sincere feeling he carries with him. His self is faded. He’s nearly nothing now. Was already the last time Kame saw him.

“I’m kind of tired,” he sighs and leans his head against Jin’s shoulder. He feels the man jump slightly and smiles, even though he feels a headache approaching again. He’s been having those a lot lately. Funny, since it’s difficult to even feel stressed anymore. There’s nowhere to go, nothing to do.

They make it to Jin’s apartment where they cosy up on his bed. His legs are around the man’s hips and his cheek rests against the hollow between his collar bones. His eyes are closed and Jin’s arms are gently draped around him, holding him like something precious. Important.

“Thank you,” Jin whispers to him numbly before he drifts off.

Kame’s confident enough with himself to know that this is what he wants.

 

**2009**

Koki has a party at his house and everyone in KAT-TUN has their name written down on the guest list. Kame finds himself quite surprised about Koki’s friends – only a few have the gangster aura and the variety of personalities and appearances is astonishing. Koki’s an absolutely great person after all.

A few hours in he finds himself spacing away by the window with a glass in his hand. He’s holding the stem gently with his fingers and following the rain. It’s almost snowing, but not quite. He’s kind of wondering where his life goes from this point on. The ratings of his newest drama are low, he can’t keep up a proper relationship and sometimes it feels like nothing goes well, no matter how hard he tries.

“You drunkard,” a familiar voice accuses and Kame turns his head, surprised that the words have been directed at him. Jin looks slightly hesitant but eager to approach so Kame turns to face him properly with his whole body. These occasions aren’t exactly common.

“Are _you_ accusing me of being a drunk?” he asks amusedly, unable to hold back his smile. “I think something’s really wrong here.”

“Wine,” Jin tries to justify his claim and points at Kame’s drink. “It feels like a lot of the time I see you, you’re holding a glass of wine.”

Kame frowns disbelievingly. He doesn’t drink that much, and he mostly sees Jin at work and he certainly isn’t sipping wine at work. He wonders where the man is getting at.

It’s a good thing Jin seems to pick up his confusion as well. “Your drama, I mean. Drinking wine and making orgasmic faces all the time.”

“It’s not real wine,” Kame laughs, finally understanding. “It’s coloured water, actually. So no, I don’t actually drink that much,” he chuckles as Jin makes his way closer. He’s notably taller than Kame nowadays, even though during their junior years their height matched almost perfectly. Kame wonders if he’s fallen behind Jin on other levels too.

“Yeah, I figured,” Jin admits nervously and takes a swig from his beer bottle. Kame faintly recalls Jin blabbering to him how much he absolutely _hated_ beer when he had turned legal and drunk before Kame just to piss him off. That try had obviously failed, though. “It was just a joke.”

Jin’s jokes used to feel more natural too. Now he’s so awkward the atmosphere feels really heavy. Kame does his best to appear unfazed and drinks his wine. It makes him feel unbelievably posh. Must be the drama. He knows much more about wine now than he’s ever bothered to. It’s pretty great.

“How are you doing?” Jin suddenly asks with a much more serious voice. Kame peers up at him curiously. “I can’t help but wonder. I heard about the ratings. And Nakamaru told me about that baseball player. I can’t read you and I was just worried, you don’t usually stand alone in a party.”

“Ah,” Kame nods. Quite a long list of explanations for one simple question. “I’m fine. Really. Just a little tired, but that’s nothing special on our line of work.”

“You sure?” Jin insists with a soft murmur. Kame nods with a smile and pats Jin’s shoulder. He isn’t exactly sure why Jin cares, but maybe it’s the good person in him. Kame knows it exists, he’s seen it do stupid stuff to protect people important to Jin. It’s kind of flattering he apparently still counts as someone somewhat important.

Jin’s lips are slightly pursed and his gaze is directed down at the bottle in his hand. His neck muscles look very strained, like he’s holding something back. Years can pass but somehow Kame feels like he’ll always know this particular friend inside out. There’s only so much a person can change.

“You loved that baseball player?” Jin finally tries to talk again, stumbling a little with his words. Kame stares at him stupidly, not quite understanding Jin after all. It’s confusing, because normally Jin is transparent. He must be missing something. It’s not like Jin can be homophobic, Kame’s seen his friends and, well, they’re quite a colourful bunch. Jin’s all for acceptance and equality. At least that’s what Kame thinks. His American habits.

“Yes,” he nods and takes a bigger mouthful of wine. “I did.” And because it’s part of the etiquette, “Have you been seeing someone lately? I can’t seem to keep track of your relationships. Even the gossiping juniors can’t,” he tries to grin. He doesn’t want to think about his own relationship failures. He’s still letting the wounds heal. It gets easier every day but still.

“Not in a while,” Jin answers and bows his head a little. His face gets hidden behind his fringe and Kame feels an urge to swipe the hair behind his ear but he holds back. Too intimate for their current relationship status. “I haven’t dated in… maybe a year? I’ve had some people for a longer time, though, but… nothing for over a month. Except for one night stands.”

“Mmmh,” Kame nods understandingly. “Well… good luck for us for next time then, huh?” he suggests and offers his glass towards Jin. Jin glances at him nervously before he clashes his bottle against Kame’s glass and they both take a swig.

The alcohol burns warmly in Kame’s belly. Jin’s silent again. He looks anxious for some reason and Kame wonders if he should ask if something’s wrong, but he decides against it after a while. Nakamaru, Yamapi and Ryo are around too, and even Taguchi and Ueda. All of them probably go well beyond him when it comes to people Jin can lean on with his problems.

“It’s nice talking to you,” Jin finally murmurs warmly. The tone of his voice makes Kame feel warm and bubbly. He remembers the feeling from their youth and it feels like it would’ve been ten years ago or something even though it’s only been about four.

“Nostalgic, huh,” he agrees with a nod. “We don’t do this much nowadays.”

“No, we don’t,” Jin agrees with a shaky voice and fiddles with his beer bottle again. “I feel like I’m only watching you from a distance nowadays. Or through the TV screen.”

“Strange.” Well, it is. It sounds like some weird voyeurism, except that Jin probably doesn’t mean it like that. He’s just having trouble articulating his thoughts again. He’s not going to point that out, though, it’s already awkward enough.

Jin seems a bit taken aback by his answer anyway and he licks his lips nervously, turning his head away. Kame scans the guests in the room with his eyes. Almost no one is looking at them. Or maybe they’re just pretending not to look.

Yamapi turns his head away. Kame smiles. Talking about nostalgia. It’s funny how much they’ve all grown. No more raging hormones, fumbling experiences or clashing friendships. Life is more stable now. It makes Kame feel grateful.

“Thank you,” he says to Jin finally and the man’s face snaps towards him again. Jin looks a little flushed and breathless. “Somehow I feel much better now. Like things are going to get better from here as long as I endure it.”

“Life will always have things to offer to you,” Jin croaks and nods awkwardly. Kame chuckles and raises his glass a little again.

“I hope you’re happy,” he says and finds himself sincerely meaning his words. Jin nods stiffly before Kame walks away, eager to converse with people again. He kind of feels like there’s nothing he can’t do.

 

“I’m just slipping through,” Jin whispers to him, smoke trailing its way towards the ceiling. It disappears somewhere along the way. Kame exhales and Jin’s dry and rough lips caress his ear. There’s a lazy hand draped under his back, holding his hip. “How about you?”

“I’m here,” Kame answers determinately with a ghost of a smile on his lips. He turns his eyes to Jin, shuffling in his hold. Their noses brush together and Jin tilts his chin to steal a short suck of lips from him. Kame presses forward to deepen the kiss shortly. “You know I’m always here.”

“Like a cockroach,” Jin chuckles and takes another drag from the cigarette. “In a nuclear war.”

“Gorgeous,” Kame scoffs and rolls his eyes. Jin snuggles into his warmth and sighs contently.

It’s comfortable.

Kame moves one of his legs over Jin and raises his lips until he’s lying on top of the older man with his back against Jin’s chest. Jin’s breathing is heavier and his hips buck gently, questioningly. Kame tosses his cigarette to the ashtray on the night stand. Jin follows his cue and drapes his arms around Kame. Kame lets his head slip over Jin’s shoulder.

“You are gorgeous,” Jin whimpers from under him, almost drowsily except that he’s not, not really. Perhaps slightly overwhelmed if anything. “…This is strange.”

“Good,” Kame corrects him with a grumble and pecks his cheek wetly. “This is good. Is it not?”

“…It is,” Jin agrees with a heavy sigh. His hands trail down to Kame’s denim-covered hips which he holds for a while before he decides to remove his hands to push himself to sit up against the headboard. Kame doesn’t budge from where he is. Jin’s hands snake to rub his inner thighs gently and Kame gulps, tossing his head back a little.

“You feel warm,” Jin notes gently against his scapular. His lips brush gently the cloth covered-skin. Kame’s eyelids slide shut.

“Mm.”

Jin’s hands trail up again. They caress him through his shirt, slowly and experimentally, searching for his buttons. Collarbones, every hollow between his ribs. He dips his finger in Kame’s navel and Kame gasps, arching a little and frowning. It’s good. Teasing. Slow.

“I’m afraid to touch you,” Jin whispers embarrassedly and buries his face in Kame’s shoulder. “Seeing you naked… doing it with you… it really changes everything, doesn’t it? Permanently. And because we’ve waited for so long there’s this p-pressure… If I screw this up…”

“It’s fine,” Kame answers and swallows the saliva gathering in his mouth. Jin is slowly starting to awaken, he can feel it under him. “Whatever’s fine.”

He means his words. He’s thought about it too, he’s worried senseless and used it as an excuse not to pursue this, not embarrass himself completely, make Jin say _‘maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all’_ and leave him empty-handed after the leap. But the feeling is mutual, and it’s not like there’s anyone else Jin can run to now. He’s certain. He doesn’t care.

Jin’s hand cups the front of Kame’s jeans and Kame sighs heavily, squirming slightly. It’s intimate and stumbling but it’s fine, it’s going rather well for now. The baby steps they’re taking.

Kame moans and trembles weakly when Jin’s fingers dip inside his briefs and stroke him. Jin’s hips start gently undulating underneath him and Kame’s breathing comes out in sharp gasps. His fingers grip the mattress and Jin’s teeth gently nip at his neck and shoulder exposed by the neckline of his shirt.

Kame cries out a bit when Jin rubs the head of his awakening erection. He feels like the skeleton of his upper body would be evaporating and he lies boneless over Jin with his heavy weight. Not that Jin seems to mind. He’s whimpering a bit, just a little sound Kame’s ears would probably miss if he didn’t make it at such a close proximity.

“Good?” Jin whispers to him and Kame struggles to nod. Jin removes his hand and he bites his lip – the jeans are slowly starting to become tight. It’s fine for now, but he doesn’t know for how long. Not with Jin pressed against him and exploring him with his hands.

Talking about Jin’s hands, he’s unzipping Kame’s jeans. Kame turns his head to kiss the man’s temple, squirming slightly to reach it. Jin rises to meet his lips and Kame parts them for deeper access.

Jin’s nails sink deep in Kame’s hips and Kame gasps and arches his back. He cries softly as they move upwards, towards his belly and –

Pain. Sharp and alarming. Jin’s hands tremble warily as they trace over the…

Wetness drips down Kame’s side. He decides it’s time to go.

“Kame?” Jin asks him worriedly. “What was that? W-what…”

Kame jumps on his feet and exits the room. Jin rushes after him quickly, wiping his bloodied fingers against his shirt in panic.

“Shit, Kame, you’re bleeding,” he gasps and Kame slams the bathroom door shut behind him. “Kame, what was it?!”

“Crap,” Kame curses and starts pressing toilet paper over his opened wound. “ _Crap._ ”

“Kame!” Jin demands attention from the other side of the door by banging it angrily. “What the fuck was it?! You’re the only thing I have left anymore so start speaking up, now! Kame!”

Kame zips his jeans back up again and washes the wound slightly. It’ll close again. The bleeding’s already lessening. Everything is alright. False alarm. He’d just panicked. And, by the sounds of it, Jin has panicked even worse.

“It’s fine,” he calls surely back to Jin. “I’m fine.”

“Then open the door,” Jin asks and tries the handle. Kame considers it. He patches himself up with some bandage from the cupboards. Jin’s probably pressing his ear against the door by now. He wants to say he doesn’t care. The thing just happens to be that he does.

He opens the door and Jin immediately pulls his shirt up. Kame growls and pulls it back down, hiding the bandages under the fabric. They eye each other warily and Jin looks pissed and betrayed. After a moment of heated staring, he however wraps his arms around Kame and pulls him close, all the while gritting his teeth together.

“I’ll go out for a walk,” Kame announces. “I’ll take Ran-chan with me. She needs one.”

“Kame,” Jin tries but Kame walks away with a ruffle of his hair. Jin feels hollow as he follows him with his arms crossed over his chest. Kame ignores him as he prepares Ran by snapping the flexi leash to her collar. She wags her tail happily and sniffs Kame’s fingers.

“Just come back,” Jin talks quietly, leaning against the foyer wall as Kame pulls his boots on. “I’ll wait, okay?”

“I’ll be back,” Kame assures him as he opens the door. Jin draws in a sharp breath and steps forward.

“One more thing.”

“Hm?” Kame asks as he turns around. Ran is trying to pull forward with her leash, eager to go and sniff the nearest streetlight. “What is it?”

“…Did you ever report it?” Jin asks him quietly. His gaze is penetrating but Kame refuses to let his gaze falter. He knows what Jin means. He’d be stupid if he wouldn’t.

“No,” he answers honestly. Jin nods and sucks his lips in nervously. Kame waves his hand and heads towards the streets with a cheery dog by his side.

Jin doesn’t call after him. He probably needs some time to dwell on it. Kame can’t blame him… He must surely enough really appear to be a nutcase whacko right now. Great.

It’s good that Jin doesn’t have a second option and he’s harboured his feelings for so long. Otherwise… Kame might really worry about losing him.

He doesn’t think he can quite stomach that final loss anymore.

 

**2009**

Ran-chan and Sakura wag their tails and bark excitedly. They’re pulling on their leashes shamelessly – Kame has to admit that some of the dog-schooling never worked out with him because he went too easy with his adorable puppy when she was still such a baby. He still does it, and by the looks of it, Koki’s just the same. They’re dog people. As long as no one’s getting dog teeth sunken to their ankles, things should be fine.

“You look better,” Koki notes amidst the light chitchat they’re having and flashes a knowing smirk to Kame. “Much, much better, if I may say. Have you been up to anything new recently?”

“Not really,” Kame admits. “Drama filming ended, though. Final episode will air this week. Then it’s done with. I might get a small role as a visiting actor in Kimura Takuya’s newest drama, though. I’m really looking forward to that. I hope I won’t screw it up, this year really hasn’t worked for me. They’re bound to put me on an acting break if the ratings continue being this low.”

“It’s not your fault the wine drama was totally boring,” Koki snorts crankily. “Only wine freaks and your hardcore fans watch that shit, seriously. You’ve been working a lot this year, it should pay off.”

“I hope so,” Kame nods. “I’m trying not to think about it too much. Otherwise I get depressed.”

“Well, there’s always KAT-TUN and _Dream Boys_. You’ll be busy to the point of collapsing again soon enough,” Koki points out with a yawn. He’s right – the schedule is going to be merciless. Kame’s already memorised all of his _Dream Boys_ lines and lyrics, but there’s still a lot of choreography to catch up with.

Sakura tries to jump over Ran-chan and they have to pause their conversation until they manage to sort out the leashes again. Kame sighs and helps Ran-chan on his shoulders affectionately. She sniffs his ear excitedly with her cold and wet nose and Kame shivers a little, trying to appear calm and composed.

“I saw you chatting with Jin at the party,” Koki suddenly says and Kame wonders why is it that his bandmates are so curious about everything between the two of them. He hardly ever gets these weird questions out of nowhere about anyone else. Jin, Jin, Jin. They’re probably hinting at something. Kame considers making his opinion about their relationship clear to someone soon if this doesn’t stop.

“Yeah, we talked for a little,” he admits. “Nothing special. We just caught up with each other a little.”

“Hmmmmm,” Koki nods enthusiastically and Kame thinks that ‘hmm’ was a little too long. He sighs and tries to ignore it – knowing his bandmates, they’ll get all childish over any signs of denial as well. It’s weird they haven’t taken the hint even though it’s been years. “You’ve been quite happy afterwards, though.”

“Coincidence,” Kame insists calmly, looking at the sky while walking. The weather is brilliant – spring is on its way. The cherry trees are waiting for the time of their blooming. Manly or not, Kame quite loves the pink tint they give to the city. Japanese aesthetics. He’s looking forward to it too.

“Maybe you two should talk more,” Koki suggests. “I think there might be more to him than you think. You’re both adults now, aren’t you?”

“What is that even supposed to mean…” Kame sighs heavily. That it’s expected of them? That they’ll stand each other more now? But that was never the problem. Of course it could be that Koki’s just hinting that Jin’s already over the mess they went through when they were younger.

He thinks he would quite like that. If there’s a chance they could be good friends again then why not? It’s not like he has anything against it per se, he’s mostly just worried that it won’t work out after all and he has to feel disappointed over himself and Jin all over again. He now knows who he is, and the same probably applies to Jin, but the problem is that Jin has the talent for making him doubt everything about himself if he’s given the chance.

Hours later Kame crawls under his blanket and he thinks about it. Ran-chan’s beside him and the lamp sitting on his nightstand is casting a warm colour over the sheets. Kame thinks about his life and the people he’s met along the way, everything that’s been important to him.

“A lot of things have been important to me,” he whispers to Ran-chan gently and ruffles her behind her ear affectionately. “People. Work. So much has happened, you know? Juniors look up to me as a role model, that means I’ve been successful, doesn’t it? And friends…” His voice fades and Ran-chan whines nervously, pushing Kame’s palm with her nose. “Shh. I was just thinking,” he admits and purses his lips a little while peering at his lamp hazily. “That people are the most important thing to me, you know. What they think, company. As long as I have that… I think I’m going to be fine. Don’t you think so?”

Ran-chan doesn’t answer, of course. She gets on her paws and pushes her way under Kame’s blanket, making him chuckle a bit. He wraps his arm around her small figure and turns the lamp off, ready to get some proper rest before work.

“And you,” he still whispers to the silence. “You’re important too. So don’t be cranky at me. Good night, Ran-chan. Have sweet dreams.”

She yanks on the number plate around Kame’s neck and Kame whines a bit as he saves it from her teeth. “Silly dog,” he murmurs and holds it in his palm. He buries his face in the soft pillow he has and listens to the sound of his own deepening breathing. It’s like the possibilities are right there waiting for him.

He’s number eight, and he’ll forever be number eight. He’s special, and eventually he’ll see it himself too.

 

_“It has come to our knowledge that the police have caught the perpetrator. He’s currently undergoing medical surgery due to attempting to stomach too many identities, but the police refuse to give clear information about his current whereabouts. This will bring an end to the identity theft of reportedly 21 victims. The head of Tokyo’s police force, Nakamoto Jouji, has scheduled a press conference in an hour. He will release more information about the case and the perpetrator–”_

Kame turns the television off, feeling numb and weak. Jin doesn’t say a word from where he’s standing, framed by the doorframe. Ran-chan sleeps soundly on Kame’s lap on the armchair where he’s stroking her fur absently, staring into distance.

“You’ll probably get your number back then, huh,” he attempts a conversation after a long, strangling moment of silence. “Congratulations.”

Jin shifts uncomfortably. Kame can hear the rustle of his clothes. He licks his lips anxiously, starting to feel alarmingly cold inside.

“They’ll have your number too, you know,” Jin whispers with an assuring voice and walks over to gently massaging Kame’s shoulders. Tries to soothe him, turn his head. He probably knows already. Maybe he’s known all along.

“I don’t want it,” Kame lets the words come out. Irrational, insane and idiotic. Jin’s massage gets rougher by a notch. Kame’s mouth feels dry. “I’m not planning on taking it back even if I could.”

“Kame.”

“I don’t need it,” Kame sighs and closes his eyes to keep calm. Ran-chan is starting to twitch uncomfortably in her sleep. “I might sound like an idiot, but… right now… I’m content. My head feels clearer than it has in years, if ever.”

“Kazu.” Silent. Insistent.

“If I have to choose between my career and you, I choose you,” Kame answers softly and buries his fingers in Ran-chan’s soft fur. She’s breathing gently. Her presence is calming. “I think I’ve worked enough for a lifetime. I never saw it before, but now… I don’t want to go back. This is all I need. Other than this… I don’t really care much.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Jin croaks weakly and kisses his shoulder. “You want to continue being nothing? Nothing at all? Not worth a second glance?”

“No,” Kame disagrees with a shake of his head, “I don’t see it that way. When I have you beside me…” His voice trails off. Jin sighs and wraps his arms around Kame’s torso. “I feel like there’s this world just for the two of us. One that we build up. With you I’m not so insignificant. So… as long as I have that… I don’t want to change. Go back to being the Kamenashi Kazuya everyone loved but abandoned just like that when I lost it. Myself.”

“…I never reported it,” Jin confesses weakly. Kame turns his head, dumbfounded. Jin looks weak. He’s biting his lip. It’s worrying. “I-I never… called in and… I mean, no one gave a shit so I just…”

The silence falls again. Jin is trembling slightly, staring at Kame anxiously like he’s his lifeline. Maybe he is.

“The world doesn’t need us,” he announces strongly. “People don’t need us. No one else does. Just the two of us.”

Jin nods breathlessly. He feels distant, though. Kame helps Ran-chan up and she wails quietly before padding towards the kitchen sleepily. He gets up on his feet and starts walking towards the TV to set the remote beside it.

“Don’t go,” Jin wheezes and gets up on his feet, alarmed. Kame turns around, feeling humoured. Jin should know better by now.

“I’m _infinity_ ,” he whispers to Jin, eyes narrowed in determination. He feels a crooked smile making its way on his lips, bitter in a sense the taste in his mouth is. He walks over again and pecks Jin’s lips lightly before he lets himself slowly fall beyond the couch’s armrest. His back makes a delicate curve and his fingers caress the carved pride in his hip – ugly, imperfect and never-to-disappear-again. 8. He exposes his teeth ever so slightly, cocking his head. Jin’s expression remains the same apathetic one as his eyes take in the view.

“I’m still nothing,” the man whispers back, his gaze averting. Kame smirks at him and draws him closer by hooking his leg around his back.

“Don’t you know by now… we’re never nothing,” he gasps, eyes wide and crazed. Jin holds his hips and swifts his thumb carelessly over the ragged skin. And, at that moment, they’re _exactly_ what they are, identities ripped away and abandoned. Pure.

“This is what we are,” Jin agrees, determined to cling to him. His only tie to his self, his _emotion_. Jin’s hitched breath tickles Kame’s ear and his body trembles on top of him. Kame peers up at Jin, gripping him tightly.

And so infinity and nothing choose to go on.


End file.
